An Appeal: Do Not Give The Devil A Foothold

Do not give the devil a foothold (Ephesians 4:27). Words to take to heart. It's why I got rid of my smartphone. It's why I'm living at such a high (be definitely not overwhelming) intensity. Why would I want to "slow down" or engage in something that might open other doors, or, more in the context of this verse, leave doors open? What possible justification could there be for taking such a risk?

Everything must be closed, everything must be taken care of immediately. Every action and decision must be made in consideration of God ans His Kingdom. Because the devil is prowling around like a lion, looking for someone to devour, waiting for any foothold. Have you ever actually tried to picture that? The lion, that ferocious beast, which could destroy you in a moment, knows where you are--it's already spotted you--and it's pacing, just waiting. And it's hungry. Very hungry. Its sole focus is on making you its meal, and it will not be satisfied unless it licks your bones clean. The camera you dropped just outside the reach of the your jeep that you might be able to grab, if you just try, if you're very quick, probably isn't worth it.

Do not give the devil a foothold. I implore you, if there is some area of weakness in your life that you "just haven't gotten around to," or perhaps are trying to ignore, thinking it will magically resolve itself--take care of it NOW, even if a quick fix isn't in sight. We cannot afford to have the enemy frustrate the plans the Lord has for our lives. Time is too short. We only have days. Minutes.

There is too much to be done to waste our lives doing anything other than living completely and fully for the Lord. People are lost and hurting. People are dying without ever having heard about Jesus, or maybe they've "heard" Him but they haven't actually seen Him.

The harvest is plentiful. The time is now.

***

"What I mean, brothers, is that the time is short. From now on those who have wives should live as if they had none; those who mourn, as if they did not; those who are happy, as if they were not; those who buy something, as if it were not theirs to keep; those who use the things of the world, as if not engrossed in them. For this world in its present form is passing away." - 1 Corinthians 7:29-31.

Miscellaneous Thoughts: Writing to Myself

It's weird to find old journal entries where I've literally addressed myself by name, either for rebuke or some other reason. At the time it probably just served as a sort of emphasis to the point I was making, as if to say, "this is important, Adrian." (It's always condescending, too!)

But when I go back, removed from the situation of that particular moment, it's almost as if I had written it to the future me, the me who is now reading the entry. This becomes doubly true if I've perhaps forgotten the context of the entry or even its contents altogether, and it's as if past-me has set up this "name-calling" for that very reason. That wasn't the reason I originally used my own name, but it's interesting to see how context can shift based on the passage of time. Now the context becomes, "don't forget this, Adrian."

Wresting With The Word: Eagerly Desiring The Greater Gifts

In 1 Corinthians 12:31, Paul tells us to "eagerly desire the greater gifts." But only a few verses prior Paul explains that it is the Spirit who gives us our spiritual gifts, "just as He determines" (12:11). How do I reconcile these two thoughts? How can I desire the "greater gifts" if their distribution is outside of my control?

In verse 15 Paul says, "If the foot should say, 'Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,' it would not for that reason cease to be part of the body." In the proceeding verses (up until verse 27), Paul goes on to explain how no gifts, or "parts," are any less or more significant than the others. Each part is vital to the body as a whole: "The eye cannot say to the hand, 'I don't need you!' And the head cannot say to the feet, 'I don't need you!'" (12:21). There seems to be an equalizing affect that each part plays in respect to the all the other individual parts, and it is what equalizes the body as a whole.

Then, in verse 28, Paul seems to rank some of the roles in accordance with God's appointing, seemingly establishing this system of "greater" gifts.

But again, if the distribution of our spiritual gifts is carried out by the Spirit's divine will, why would we desire the greater ones, instead of merely accepting what He has portioned us with humility and thankfulness? I understand this verse is probably speaking in anticipation of the actual distribution, but I feel like we're setting ourselves up to fail if we desiring gifts A, B, or C, instead of waiting in humble expectation.

One commentary said, "but this does not prevent men earnestly seeking, by prayer and watchfulness... the [greater] gifts." I agree that it is good to desire the things of God--His holiness, righteousness and His will--but what good does this do if we ultimately have no control over what gifts we receive? Doesn't this just leave room for failed expectations?

If we are told to desire the greater gifts, I feel like this is only going to create feelings of discontentment, jealousy and frustration. "Desire apostleship! Desire prophecy! For these are the greater gifts, the ones worth desiring!" (Or pick your gift of choice.) But what if what we desire isn't what we receive? Won't we despise what the Spirit has given us and therefore wrongly covet (King James: "covet earnestly...") the greater gifts? I feel like this runs contrary to Paul's previous explanation of each part being significant to the whole. If that is true, why are there are parts which carry more weight than others, parts that are "greater"?

I don't believe that Paul is contradicting himself. I believe that the Word is God-breathed and God is perfect and His truth is infallible. But I just don't get what I'm being told to do in this last verse.

Story Time: I Don't Know How to Use My Horn

Story Time!

So I don't know how to use my horn. Here's what I mean: I grew up in a small town of 600 people with almost no cause to ever use my horn. Traffic for us was three cars leaving the grocery store in the evening. Scary stuff. That, and I'm just not the kind of person to immediately rail on my horn if someone cuts me off or does something I don't like. Basically, I don't have the muscle memory to use it.

That being said, there are some times when I need to use my horn, perhaps to alert someone to my presence before they accidentally hit me backing up or something. But not only do I lack the muscle memory but I've almost never used it, so I often forget it's even there.

So in situations like today, where I'm driving on the freeway and someone merges into the same lane and exact spot I'm occupying, rather than quickly sounding my horn to warn them, I just panic, say things out loud in my car ("Hey. "No." "Watch out."), and just helplessly watch things unfold.

There must be some part of my brain that realizes I need to be doing more, and maybe somewhere deep inside it knows it has to be something to do with my hands, but the horn-related thought pathways between my brain and my body are so dilapidated and decayed from years of vacancy that the final message comes out muddled and incoherent, so all I end up doing is giving them a rather nonspecific wave as they drive away, as if to suggest some queer camaraderie has come out of this confusing mess.

But tonight! Tonight I remembered! Granted, it was in my apartment parking lot and I had much more time to react, but I remembered nonetheless!

So I come home and this car is parked out in the lane, but directly in front of my spot. I drive up slowly behind him and notice a cigareTte in his outstretched arm; this guy's relaxed and probably doesn't even notice me. This is it! The perfect situation to finally put my horn skills to work! I push my palm into the center of my steering wheel but don't hear a sound. Oh great. I can't even do this correctly! I try again. Nothing.

Guess what I learned? My horn doesn't work.

Horrible Dialogue

   "You know what they say, 'An apple a day keeps the doctor away!'"
   "So they say. Not for me anyway.

   "Because I am a doctor."

Story Time: The Monkey That Guards My Car

Story Time!

So I have this stuffed monkey that sits on top of my dash and guards my car. He's positioned in just the right position where he can see everything that's going on. Right before I leave the car I'll say something like, "Monkey, guard my car," or often I'll just give him an acknowledging "Mon-keeey!"

I don't know where this idea of him guarding my car came from. He was originally a gift from my friend Jaye, and I know from the start I had intended for him to stay in my car. Perhaps it was just the most logical conclusion because of where I constantly had him positioned on the dash; his steady vigil testified to his guard-like prowess.

Despite telling him to guard my car every time I left it, this had always been more of a joke, nothing more--that is, until the day he proved me wrong.

One morning, back when I used to live in Pendleton, I was leaving for work and came out to my car to find my back window smashed open. Not only was this a frightening experience anyway, but I had never had anything like this happen to me before. I had to call into work to tell them I'd be late so I could deal with reporTing the incident while I tried to get everything cleaned up.

I combed my car to see if anything was missing, and to my relief it seemed they didn't take anything--though the damage was done. However, upon second glace I discovered something I failed to notice previously. My monkey, who always took his place perched atop my dash, was sitting in the back seat on the floor!

The one time my car had ever been broken into was the one time I forgot to have him guard my car!

So there you go. It's been proven. He's a tried and true, bona fide guard monkey.

Late Night Ramblings Vol. XVII

Sometimes I just want to drive around for hours with only the rain and some music to keep me company, but now it's too late and I need to go to sleep.

Sometimes I'd like to just throw on my running shoes and run my heart out until I collapse, but it's too late now and I need to go to sleep.

Sometimes I want to put into words these things deep inside of me that scream for something more, but it's late and I need to go to sleep.

I guess I'll just pray and try to keep focus.

To Be Called His Own

So I was reading John 1:11 today, where John writes that Jesus "...came to that which was His own, but His own did not receive Him." His own. That's us, you know. I just think that's crazy. God is so holy, so perfect, so powerful, but He's not so high as to be unassociated with us. He calls us "His own."

That's incredible to me. That an all-powerful God would associate Himself with lowly mankind. That we belong to Him. He claims us, even proudly (Job 1:8). It's just mindboggling to think of an unfathomably infinite God desiring connection with us, but not just a shallow, impersonal connection--a deep, intimate relationship. If this weren't true, He never would have sent His Son to die for us.

We are not separated from Him. He is not too far away or above. After all, we are made in His image. How crazy is that?! Think about it: He could have made any creature He wanted. He could have created some majestic unicorn or some towering colossi, and everyone would have agreed that this creature was magnificent. But He put His imprint on us! He personalized us so specifically that He made us in His likeness. Not even the angels can claim this. More than simply putting His stamp of approval on us, like an artist signing their painting, He ingrained within us something so personal and extraordinary we'll probably never fully understand it.

Isn't this why we seek after the things of the world so passionately? It is because our souls, which remember the days before the fall, before we lost that close intimacy with our Creator, cry out for something to fill that void. But without Jesus we simply grasp hold of whatever we can find.

So when Jesus came to this world He became like us--those He calls His own--to bring a light into this blind depravity. Oh, how it must have broken His heart when His own did not receive Him. I think if you want proof of His love, consider the fact that He died in spite of this.

A Love Worth Dying For

I've been listening to Andy Orsow's "Loved by the Son". It's such a beautiful song. The chorus goes like this:

You took my soul and you breathed it to life

And I had no idea I was dead 'til that night

When you reached down your hand

And told me no lies

And I learned what it was to be loved by the Son

I just can't believe that Jesus would save me, that He chose me specifically, individually. He reached down to this pit I was in, this death that would have consumed me forever, and said, "No. I am not content with this. I will not have this."

Who am I that He would die for me?

God's love is so magnificent that it is able to encompass all mankind, yet His love responds to who I am, because He loves me personally, and He chose me.

It's more than just this blanket, general effect. "Alright guys, gather 'round. Okay, I love you all." No. He's like, "I love you, Adrian. And I love you... And I love you... more than you'll ever know. Despite the things you do, and the ways in which you break My heart, I love you. Regardless."

I am significant.

He saw it all. My darkest hours. How far I run away from Him. And He died for me with that knowledge. He said, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do. If only they knew... if only they knew how much I loved them, how far I'm willing to go to save them, that I would give myself in their place so that they never have to."

That's the kind of love I'm willing to lay my life down for. This love has set me in motion. I will pick up my cross and follow Jesus to the end of my days. I will never look back. I will walk until my legs can no longer carry me and I have exhausted every single heartbeat.

***

How deep the Father's love for us,

How vast beyond all measure

That He should give His only Son

To make a wretch His treasure.

"3D White" Toothpaste

I've been using this Crest "3D White" toothpaste, but I've long since been disappointed with it. I've used several whitening toothpastes in the past, but comparatively this one has given me little results. I know the whole "3D" thing is a gimmick, but I figured it would at least follow through on its whitening promise.

So I ended up using the last little bit of the toothpaste this morning (good riddance), and I'm cleaning my room later and I come across my 3D glasses. I had a good chuckle and decided it would be fun to look at my teeth in the mirror with the glasses on.

Yeah, so apparently -that's- why it's called "3D White": You need 3D glasses to see the full effect.

Long story, short, my teeth were so blazingly white when being looked at through the 3D glasses that I'm now completely and permanently blind (so the doctors tell me) and there are broken pieces of mirror scattered all across the bathroom and embedded into the walls.

David has been kind enough to help me apply for disability online (since I can't see to do it myself). I just hope this won't hurt my chances of getting hired by that valet company I applied for. I really need a job...